


Watch Me Put My War Paint On (I'll Make The Drums Beat Harder For You)

by Of_Heaven_And_Hell



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:17:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Heaven_And_Hell/pseuds/Of_Heaven_And_Hell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Zombie Apocalypse au we didn't know we wanted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This is just an introduction kinda, it'll get better after I get all this background information out of the way :)

"Hurry up, Bellamy!" Octavia screamed, desperation creeping into her voice and making a home where it usually was not welcome. The fear seemed out of place coming from her body, which was as rigid and soldier-like as always. She was lean, brown hair flying in the wind from the open window as she shot the weapon in her right hand. She paid special mind to not hit Jasper, whose head stuck out the window behind hers as he shot those who she had her back to.

Her brother, Bellamy, ignored her as he drove the old van from where he sat next to her. Monty was in between them, furiously looking through all the maps they had to find another route. The second row held Lincoln and Jasper. Miller and Murphy were both shooting out of their respective windows in the third row, with Maya organising the group's newest haul on the ground between them. The trunk of the car held the last of them; Clarke trying to take out the bullet lodged in Raven's spine during the getaway and Finn as he shot out the window over the two.

Another sigh left Octavia's lips as she looked between those she was shooting to kill and those who she was shooting to protect. She still remembered the first day the outbreak had reached America. The disease had been around for a while, in other countries, but the government always downplayed it and the citizens, true to tradition, had thought they were invincible. After all, they could handle a little flu.

They couldn't apparently, at least not one like this. It turned healthy men, women, and children into decaying cannibals within mere days. It spread rapidly, and once someone brought it into the borders, it was out of control. The group had only been thirteen at the time, aside from Bellamy and Lincoln who were fifteen. Immediately they'd had to shift their priorities from playgrounds and first kisses to loyalty and survival. Their parents had helped them, hiding and teaching them whatever they could when needed (and eventually, sacrificing themselves). It seemed almost definite that the group of teens would catch the disease or die within the first year. But they hadn't. They'd somehow survived three years of this life.

All of them.

She couldn't remember a time when the 11 of them weren't all together. Their parents had all bought houses on the same street long before any of them had been born, and there was only one private school in the area. They'd all walked to school and back together, did their homework together, went to the park holding hands. Of course, being that close meant that they'd all had arguments over the years but they always managed to pull themselves back together. They were family (not really, of course, that'd be a little incestuous for some of them.)

Octavia's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her friend's bickering. It looked as if they'd lost the zombie-like creatures, so she ducked her head back inside, breathing heavy, as she listened to them.

"Should she be in this much pain?" Finn questioned, anger apparent in his tone.

"Considering the fact that there's a bullet in her spine, yes" Clarke snapped.

"I'm right here, guys." Raven tried to joke, but her voice came out so weak neither of them listened.

"Then get it out."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't know, Finn. Maybe because I don't want to paralyze her by doing it in a moving car," She paused for a moment before yelling, "Or maybe because I don't fucking know how."

"Your mother-" Finn stopped abruptly, leaving the rest of the sentence hanging in the air, dangling as dangerous as a noose. He didn't finish, but they all knew what he was going to say 'Your mother would have known'.

"My mother is dead because of you." She seethed.

Their group had been running out of food and medicine, so Finn insisted on getting more. They'd already stolen once that month and doing so again seemed more risky than rewarding. But Finn was sure they could get away with it, and so they'd made the four hour car ride to the abandoned shops. They all should have known not to push their luck, or to not let their guard down. But they'd been tired and hungry, so they did. They did and now Abby was dead, or worse, and Raven was shot.

It wasn't his fault, even Clarke knew, but they were all in a fighting mood. So, the arguing continued. Octavia knew it was just stress and grief (Abby, being the last adult had become a mother to them all) but it worried her still. This wasn't the kind of fight that friends could forgive each other for, it was the kind that tore them apart. Not to mention, Raven was likely going to die. No one said it but they all knew it was true. O wasn't sure that Finn would make it if she didn't; they'd been together for years, and best friends since they could speak. Lately it'd been different though. Not on Raven's part, but on Finn's. And Clarke's. Octavia wasn't sure when Clarke had gotten a part in the romance but, being the blonde's best friend, she could tell that she had one now. She ignored the fact, though. She never even hinted to Clarke that she suspected because, if it were true, it would tear them all apart and she couldn't stand to be the one to cause that.

Glass shattered the almost-peace that had fallen over the group and she turned in enough time to see the slimy creature land on the car. It's claws raked the inside of the vehicle, desperately seeking purchase. Finn flew back as Bellamy attempted to drive faster, knocking Clarke down with him.

Murphy was the first to move, jumping over his seat to land in the trunk, shooting the zombie that had gotten partially inside in the chest. The thing hit the ground right after Finn did. Murphy puts the hot gun back under his waistband, reaching for brunette. "Are you okay?"

Finn's face drops for a second, but he quickly nods "Yea, damn things have no aim." He laughs, a little forced, and eventually they all joined in.

"You're sure he didn't scratch you?" The blonde questions, looking fearfully at all of the exposed skin in her line of vision.

"Positive." Finn grins, as if he didn't just almost die. Once the word leaves his mouth they all breath easier, get back to work. There's already been too much death today, more than there has been in a long time.

"Good, I couldn't lose you too." Clarke's hands are already back to trying to staunch Raven's blood, mind already past the argument for now.

Monty finds a working route to the tiny cabin Abby had said they were going to, and eventually they reach it. "Everyone stay close to the car, there might be some around here." Bellamy orders, doing a quick perimeter check.

When he comes back, Maya and Clarke are working on the still sobbing, still trying to pretend she isn't sobbing, Raven near the small fire. Octavia and Lincoln sit on the porch holding hands. The image cause a roll of Bellamy's eyes. He still didn't like the idea of his best friend dating his little sister, but it was impossible to not see how in love they are. He looks around and sees that all the others are inside, aside from Murphy whose silhouette disappears into the forest.

The older boy immediately follows him. He blames it on his brotherly instincts, but he knows their isn't anything brotherly about the way Murphy makes him feel. He makes it about 10 feet into the tree line before he finds Murphy, the boy's gun held up at him. Bellamy would be worried, but he sees the flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"Slow down there, hot shot." He teases as the younger boy lowers his weapon.

"You shouldn't tease someone who has you at gunpoint, Bell's." Murphy laughs, the sound seeming much too shaky, even to his own ears.

"Technically," He smirks, "you don't have me at gunpoint any more." He sits on the dirt near Murphy, watching as the brunette follows suit.

"Valid point."

Bellamy nods, because really it's an ingenious thing to say. "So what are you doing out here?"

He's known Murphy long enough to notice the immediate tension that straightens his spine, how his eyes find the ground like they do when he's lying to one of his friends. "Just taking first watch."

It gets quiet after that. Neither is sure how long it's been, but it's obvious that their shift has long since been over when the dark sky starts to lighten. Each hour brings them a little closer, until Murphy's laying against his friend's knees, which are pulled up to his chest; the elder's hand shifting through his hair. It reminds him of when they were younger and Bellamy'd had an obsession with learning to braid on Murphy's hair, so he could help O do her own.

Those were simpler times; when they didn't know how to do hair, let alone hold a weapon. When division seemed as hard as survival does now.

Murphy's eyes began to droop just as Bellamy spoke, "So, what are you really doing out here?" He says it lightly, even though they both know its anything but.

Murphy looked up and got hopelessly distracted by Bellamy's eyes. The man was gorgeous, had been for as long as he could remember, and Murphy was still suffering from his playground crush. Sometimes he thought Bellamy felt it too, but he had to remind himself that Bellamy looked at everyone like that. He was just a caring person.

He also had to remind himself that their lives were about more than relationships now and that any distraction could be deadly. It worked, and he swallowed the lump in his throat as he stood. "I'm kinda beat, so I'll send people back to take our place. Night, Bell's."

Bellamy sighed, but muttered back a "Good night, Murph." back. It was light out as he settled back down, disappointment flooding his body. The trees were quiet, peaceful. 

He wondered when they'd get to be like that again.


	2. Almost Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group tries to settle down at the cabin.

Murphy huffed as the cabin came into sight, the tension hitting him immediately. He sees Raven lying belly down in the dirt across from the fire and crouches down near her head. "How's it going, asshole?"

"I just got shot, you know the usual, dumbass."

Murphy nods theatrically. "That's good, I was gonna have to do it myself soon."

"It probably was you, you can't aim for shit." Her serious facade cracks, weak laughter shaking her body. Their bond had been like this ever since her family adopted him; all snarky comments and hidden loyalty. Well, sometimes not-so-hidden loyalty. Like when they were in kindergarten and Raven beat up a third grader named Emori after she pointed out how Murphy looked like her pet lizard, making him cry. Or in sixth grade, when Raven's date to the spring fling cancelled last minute. She had said it was fine, but Murphy walked in on her crying a few minutes later. He hadn't planned on going, so he didn't have a tux of his own, but he went as her date in an obnoxiously oversized one.

Or now, as Raven attempts to drag herself closer to him and, taking pity on her, he grips under her arms and lightly pulls her upper body onto his lap. She flinches as he settles her and he stops quickly. "Does it hurt?"

"No, I'm fine.". The shakiness of her voice and the sweat on her skin say otherwise, and if it were anyone else Murphy would have pretended to believe the lie, but it's Raven.

"Lying is a sin, Reyes." He smirks into her hair.

"Good thing I haven't got much faith."

He just nods to that, because really who does anymore? "Have you eaten?"

"Clarke basically force fed me after the surgery."

"That's good," It's only then that he notices the group's absence, "Where is everyone?"

"Theyre all inside sleeping," The brunette's body stiffens, and Murphy isn't sure why until she continues, "Clarke and Finn said they were going to take second watch a while ago."

"You don't think that's what they're doing?"

"Bellamy hasn't come back, so no. They're just out there discussing what the group's going to do with me now that I'm useless."

"Raven, you know that's no-"

"I can't fucking walk Murphy."

"You don't need-"

"Maybe I didn't need my legs back then, but I sure as hell do now. What are you guys going to do, wheel me away from the zombies?"

"We'll find a way. None of us are going to leave you. I'm never going to leave you, shitface."

She turns her head to look at the fire, the fabric of Murphy's jeans muffling her voice as she whispers "That's what I'm afraid of."

\---

"Finn, seriously, we need to stop." The blonde exhales, untangling her hands from his hair as she pushes him away.

They're both breathing heavy, lips swollen under the break of dawn. Finn seems to be much more winded than her, whatever flu he caught in the past few days catching up to him. "Why?"

Clarke's eyes narrow at his incompetence and she snaps "Because there are more important things to do than making out in the forest right now. We could be resting. Or setting up supplies. Or-"

"That's not what this is about though, is it?"

She sighs, "No Finn, it's not."

"Then what's wrong, babe? Is it...your mom?" He asks hesitantly, body tensing for the oncoming fight.

But there isn't a fight. Instead Clarke slides down the tree, liking the way the harsh bark bites into her back. Her eyes fill with tears, and she presses the new wounds harder against the rough surface. "Your girlfriend is a shout away, Finn. Your dying girlfriend," She shakes her head, tugging at her hair, "what the hell is wrong with us?"

"There's nothing wrong with you Clarke," Finn follows her down, as he's always done, "This is my fault. Raven's gonna be fine, but I can't break up with her right now. She's going through a lot. How can I be selfish enough to hurt her at a time like this?"

The blonde merely shrugs, nowhere near as apathetic as she tries to seem. "You're selfish enough to cheat on her at a time like this." She goes to get up, but he catches her wrist and pulls her into another kiss.

It's horrible and shitty that he does it, and she knows it's even worse that she lets him. They've always been like this, all grand gestures and no fall through. For six months she's told him that it's over and in those six months it's never been over. She doubts it ever will be. Because he really loves her. And she loves him. (Or maybe she loves the idea of him.)

She hates herself for it, but it's true nonetheless.

He was repeating a mantra of 'I'm sorry's against her skin and it isn't her who he should be apologizing to, but she closes her eyes and pretends it is. She thinks that's what he's doing. It doesn't help, but she never really expected it to.

She lets their mouths crash together until his hands linger under her shirt. "Finn." The words come out like a warning.

She's fully prepared to leave, until his eyes become glassy. She's never seen him cry; he's the type of person who knows anger better than he does sadness. And even though he isn't crying now, the unshed tears and the sickly color of his skin are enough to get her to pause and listen.

"I just- I need...please Clarke."

"Please what?"

"Can we just have one night? Things aren't going to be the same after tomorrow and I just want to spend tonight with you. Please."

"You're going to tell Raven?"

"Something like that." He smiles sadly. Her heart clinches. Somewhere, deep down, she hadn't thought he'd ever do it. But here he was. And here she was, more lonely than she's ever been. A girl with no boyfriend and no mother and, soon, no friends.

The constant numb she usually felt was chipping away, and she wasn't accustomed to dealing with the waves of grief anymore.

So she grabs onto Finn, forever her anchor, and kisses him until she forgets what it's like to drown. Until there are no zombies, and no other girlfriends to hide from. Until they are just a girl and a boy, who've never seen death up close; who touch under the cover of dark just because they want to.

The stench of decay sticks to them even then, but that's okay; they cannot smell it. They cannot see the wounds they give each other, or hear the cries of the lost. They've never tasted their own bitter lies and they never will. 

They can only feel, and so that is what they do.

\---

Inside the cabin, everyone spreads out to get some much needed alone time. The van is a lifesaver, but it's also cramped.

Monty smiles as he wraps Miller's ankle on the pullout sofa. "You know, if you were more careful, you'd make my job a lot easier."

Miller pretends to consider it for a moment, before asking "What if I'm into the whole doctor/patient thing?"

Monty throws the roll of gauze at the injured man's head, laughing. "Then I'd have to kink shame you."

"I'm glad to know I have such a supportive friend." 

"I should just become a counselor."

Miller smirks, looking pointedly at the messy wrapping on his hurt ankle. "You'd probably be better at that than you are at being a doctor."

The smaller boy pouts slightly, mumbling "No one has any manners anymore."

"I have manners."

"I haven't seen them."

Miller opens his mouth to argue, before deciding against it. "I'll defend my etiquette later, I'm too tired right now."

Monty chuckles at his yawn as he gets up. He's turning to leave as Miller realizes he isn't next to him anymore. "You're not staying?"

"You want me to?" The Asian quirks a brow.

"There's no way Jasper and Maya won't try to steal the bed if I'm the only one in it."

It's a fair point, and Monty could use some real, not sitting up in a car, sleep himself so he takes his shoes off and climbs into the bed. It's a testament to how exhausted he is that he doesn't make a single joke about Miller's apparently real love for doctors when the boy slips an arm around his waist.

\---

Maya and Jasper end up pulling a bunch of sofa cushions into a makeshift mattress on the floor, stealing a blanket from the cuddling pair on the sofa.

"What are the chances of throwing them off and hogging the bed before they wake up?" He asks, peeling off his dirty sweater.

"Slim to none." The dark haired girl laughs, but her eyes stay as dull as before. 

Jasper knocks her shoulder gently with his own before asking "Hey, you okay?" Silence is the only thing that greets him, so he tries again. "Monty to Murphy?"

They'd created the game a while ago, after they both realized they were shit at talking about their feelings. So instead they deflected, used their friends to describe their emotions. If one of them was stressed, they'd say Bellamy. If the other was angry, they'd say Murphy. Jasper had, quite brilliantly in his own opinion, called it Monty to Murphy because Monty tended to be the calmest of the bunch, and Murphy the most aggressive.

Maya hesitated before saying "Clarke" 

Jasper brings them both down to the cushions, whispering "That's normal, you do a lot for the group."

They lay in silence for a long time, until they've almost fallen asleep and their bodies breath at the same time. "I miss her."

He looks over at her, "I know."

"She taught me everything I know about medicine."

Jasper nods. Abby had been a great woman, a mother to all of them even before the disease came about. He missed her too. He probably always would and he didn't have it in him to lie to the beauty next to him; tell her that it would get better. It probably wouldn't. They'd probably all die soon. The only thing they had was this moment, and he couldn't blame her for not being satisfied with that.

\---

As Maya broke almost silently, Octavia shattered loudly. Lincoln let her release her anger without interruption until she grabs a vase, aiming for the window.

"Slow down, tiger." He smiles, grabbing it from her hands.

"I can't." She complains, throwing her hands up in frustration. "Everything is so screwed up right now and I don't know how to unscrew it."

"Maybe it's not your job." He whispers into her hair after he's pulled her into his arms.

"Maybe. But that just makes it worse, if I'm not fixing it then who is?"

"I don't even know which screwup we're talking about." He laughs, waiting for the answer.

She bits her lip, contemplating. She knows she could tell him her assumption about Clarke and Finn; knows that he'd never tell if she told him not to. But it might not even be true. She could just be overreacting. Yes, that was probably it. She was really stressed after all. "It's nothing."

He raises his eyebrow, but doesn't ask again. He's never been the type to push and she's never been more grateful for that than she is now. Saying her idea out loud meant accepting it as fact, and she wasn't ready for that.

"Can we just go to bed?"

He nods, "We're going to be so sore tomorrow."

That pulls a laugh out of her, because it's such a stupid thing to worry about at a time like this. He chuckles too, and she almost feels happy.

Almost.

\---

Bellamy walks into the clearing with his shirt over his shoulder and his pants almost obscenely low on his hips.

It's fucking rude to Murphy, who's already at his wits end with this dumb crush that he can't get rid of.

"Thanks for sending someone to take my place as guard." The dark man says sarcastically, a smile tugging at his lips.

He says it a little too loud and Raven stirs from her spot in Murphy's lap. "Quiet." He whispers.

It's only then that Bellamy notices the sleeping girl and he mumbles an apology as he sits near Murphy.

Their shoulders are touching.

Murphy's palms are sweaty.

It isn't because of the fire. 

"Is she okay?" He asks, snapping Murphy out of his pathetic thoughts. For God's sake, Bellamy wasn't even gay. Murphy would definitely know by now if he was.

"As good as can be, I guess. Clarke said the surgery was the easy part though, and that almost killed her. Infection still could."

Bellamy doesn't say anything as Murphy's eyes get dry, as if they too can't stand to cry. His hand moves a little closer to Murphy's though and the younger boy reaches out to grab it.

It isn't the first time they've held hands, but it it feels different this time around.

Murphy doesn't know why, and he doesn't particularly care.

"How's Clarke doing?"

Bellamy gives him a confused look before replying "I haven't seen her since we got here." 

"But her and Finn were supposed to replace your shift?"

"I already told you no one came?"

Murphy scrunched his nose. "I thought you were just being a sarcastic asshole because they were late." He looks at the older man before continuing, "You don't think they got attacked, do you?"

Bellamy stands up quickly, gently lifting the still sleeping Raven and placing her in one of the van's rows. "Probably not, but they could be lost or hurt. I'm gonna go look for them."

"I'm coming too."

Bellamy turns to leave, "You should stay here in case Raven wakes up."

Murphy grabs the others hand to stop him. "She'll be out for hours, I'm going with you."

Bellamy looks down at their entwined hands for only a second before huffing out a 'fine' and leading the way.

Even after they reach the tree line, Bellamy's still clutching his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you liked this chapter, and if you did kudos/comments are highly appreciated. (I live for the feedback)
> 
> As always, you can contact me with prompts or whatever else at my tumblr: devotedlydecaffeinatedtyrant


	3. The Calm and The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the faaaannnn
> 
> *Unedited*

Murphy's so unfocused, staring at his and Bellamy's linked hands, that he runs straight into the man when he stops abruptly, a quiet gasp leaving his lips. 

When he does look up, he really wishes he hadn't.

Clarke and Finn are deer caught in the headlights; lying on the forest floor, clothes held protectively over their bare bodies. For a full minute everyone stares back and forth at each other, gauging the situation-- no one knowing quite what to do.

"What the hell?" Murphy's the first one to speak, not waiting for the answer before he starts to march forward, completely intent on breaking Finn's nose. He almost does it before Bellamy snaps out of his own shock and grabs his arm. 

"Murphy, it's not--"

"It's not what, Finn? It's not what it looks like? Is that really the excuse you were about to give me?"

"That wasn't what I was going to say." His voice is shaky, but Murphy isn't sure if it's from remorse or not.

"Then what were you going to say?," He asks, but he loses his patience before Finn's even opened his mouth. "Actually, I don't care. What is wrong with you? How could you do this to Raven?"

Raven.

It's as if Murphy reminds himself of the injured girl's existence, eyes widening while his jaw drops. He had to tell her. Right now. 

"Murphy, wait." 

"Please, just let Finn explain this to her." Clarke pleads, arms still clutching her coat to her body. She looks so afraid, and he swears he could strangle her with that jacket if Bellamy would just let him.

He's had enough, and his gaze finds Bellamy's once more before he opens his mouth, letting out a loud "Raven!" before he turns on his heel, feet carrying him away from the nightmare he'd somehow stumbled into.

Bellamy groans at the boy's escape, internally cursing Murphy for leaving him alone to deal with this shit.

Clarke jumps up, her back to him as she quickly throws her clothes on. He keeps his eyes on the trees as she gets dressed, even after she's run by him to catch up to Murphy.

Because he doesn't want to see this. Raven is as much his sister as O is and he can't imagine what he'd do to Lincoln if he found him in a similar situation. As it is, his already split knickles are gripping the handle of his gun so tight that they feel like they're going to rip open again. He feels bile rise up his throat when Finn reaches out to grab his arm. "Don't fucking touch me."

Finn's face falls, tears springing to his eyes, but he complies, retracting his hand. "I need your help."

 

"Raven!" Birds scatter at his screams, flying out of the branches. He hears Clarke's faint calls behind him, and he knows they shouldn't be this loud, but he doesn't really give a shit. Let the zombies come, he's in a killing mood.

Because she loves him.

She loves him so fucking much, and he clearly couldn't care less.

He finally breaks through the trees, tripping slightly over a log in his frantic rush. He barely keeps his balance, scraping his knee against the bark.

The rest of their group flocked like the birds had, coming out of the doorway and standing on the porch; guns drawn at the raucous happening so early. They're watching in horror while he makes his way to the vehicle, still screaming. He rips the van door open, causing an unhealthy sound to come from the old metal.

Raven's still sleeping, her breathing unsteady. "Raven." She mumbles a little at that, burying her face in the seat. He shakes her as lightly as he can manage, careful not to jostle her new stitches, and her eyes shoot open in alarm.

"What's going on? What happened?"

Blue eyes meet brown and his breath hitches in his throat.

She has no idea.

And it's clear that he hadn't thought this through because how the hell is he supposed to be the one to tell her?

"Seriously, Murph, what is it?" Her voice is still shaky with worry. He wants to hurry up and spit the words out, calm her down, but he knows the reality is so much more devastating than anything she's probably imagining.

The others have inched forward by now, closer to the van or near the forest as Clarke emerges, halting in horror.

"I--He...Finn cheated on you." The words come out as a singular breath, running together. There's a beat of silence and her eyebrows knit together as if she can't comprehend the concept. "With Clarke."

Her face drops, every emotion clearing from it, as if she's calm.

"We-- Me and Bellamy--were going to check on them and... and we saw them. Together. I'm so sorry."

And then the storm erupts. "You're a fucking liar." She snarls, throwing the hands still resting on her shoulders off. His eyes become scratchy and dry again as he watches her. The brunette swivels to look at the audience that's gathered, her gaze falling on Clarke.

The blonde looks terrible; tears fleeing down her face, arms wrapped around her torso like she just got punched--like the wind is still knocked out of her.

Just like that, Raven's on the move; a lioness that's just found her prey. She pushes past Murphy until she can squeeze her body out the door, landing awkwardly on her good leg. Her body sways, still ridden with vertigo, but Murphy's arms shoot out before she can fall. "Let me go."

"Not happening, Reyes."

She knows him well enough to see that it really isn't going to happen, so she continues as if he isn't there; hopping to the middle of the clearing, her left foot trailing behind her at an unusual angle. The effort, even with using Murphy as a crutch, causes an immediate sheen of sweat to cover her body.

But she's stubborn, and so she doesn't stop until she's reached Clarke; until she's crowded into the girl's space so much that their chests press together. "Tell me it isn't true." She whispers, voice hard. Her eyes are searching the blue ones before her, unsure of what she's looking to find but looking all the same. "Tell me you weren't out there fucking my boyfriend while I was here alone, dying."

The blonde keeps her eyes on Raven, trying to block out the gasps of her friends around her. "I can't." Her voice wavers, she wants to say more but there isn't anything to say.

Raven's nodding, laughing, and Clarke thinks it's the worst sound she's ever heard. "How long?" The blonde doesn't answer at first and she tries again, voice raising to a scream, "How long, Clarke?"

"Three months."

She doesn't even get a response this time. One second Raven's smirking as she asks her the question and the next she's punching the blonde, grabbing onto anything she can to anchor herself while Murphy watches, unable to bring himself to try to stop her. Lincoln rushes to them, lifting her in his arms and pulling her away; she uses her grip in the blonde's hair to drag her with them until Octavia finally separates them. The youngest Blake pushes Clarke through the small crowd, disappearing into the house.

"Raven, you have to calm down." Maya's voice snaps Raven out of her bloodlust.

"I'm fine." She assures the short girl, pushing her away with the hand that isn't hugging her stomach. "I just need to be alone, I'm going in the van."

"Please, just let me check your stitches first."

It isn't Maya's fault, Raven knows that, but she can't help but hate her right now anyway. "I said not right now, goddamn." She turns, limping the short distance to the trunk. Murphy's already gotten the door open by the time she reaches it, and he helps push her through it before climbing in himself.

 

They all move a few feet away from the car, throwing themselves down in the dirt. "Did that really just happen?" Miller asks.

"How could we have missed that for three months?" Monty's rubbing at his temples, unable to really accept any of this.

"Hindsights always 20/20." Maya murmurs, pulling at the grass. 

"The real question would be how are we gonna get them in a car together?" Lincoln's question floats through the air, sending the group into silence. 

"We could just leave Clarke," Jasper shrugs, unaffected by the wide eyed glances he gets from his friends. "Finn too. Not like they don't deserve it."

 

Raven's body is faced toward the window, her side leaning against the seat. Her back presses against Murphy's, posed exactly like hers. They aren't facing each other, but they don't need to. "You could've messed your back up worse, Raven."

"She should've gotten worse." Her words are cold, daggers that he can practically feel press against Clarke's throat. She can feel him nod against her hair.

"But you're the one who's really going to get hurt if you don't quit moving so much."

"I don't care."

"You will later."

"Maybe, maybe not."

She sounds empty enough for him to flinch, not used to hearing her like that. She was a passionate person, her joy and her anger always at extreme levels. "I should have warned you first, I shouldn't have told you like that."

She shrugs, "Wasn't your fault. Besides, it's not like you've ever been the tactful one." He can hear the smirk in her voice and it travels all the way to his because, yes, this was the Raven he knew.

He doesn't want to ruin it, but he has to ask. "What are you gonna say to him?"

"He's getting the same treatment Clarke did. Only you're gonna make sure they don't stop me this time."

"As long as you don't look like you're ripping your stitches." He promises. It isn't the smartest agreement he's ever made, but it sure as hell isn't the dumbest either.

 

She's on the bed, Octavia glaring holes into her from the doorway. "I get it, you hate me. I'm sorry, O." Silence greets her, but she knows what Octavia's thinking, 'It isn't me you should be saying that to.' She only shakes her head, "I should be apologizing to all of you. I didn't want this to--"

Without a word, Octavia leaves the room. Her footsteps echo down the hallway, mocking Clarke with its emptiness. More wet trails run down her face, covering old paths and creating new ones. The blonde isn't expecting her to return, but she does a few minutes later with a hair brush and a damp rag in her hand.

She sits down next to her, starts wiping at her face; at the blossoming bruises and cuts that are there. She doesn't talk, and sometimes the rough material digs into an open wound too deep, but still she's grateful. Even more so when the other girl fixes her hair, clumped together and matted.

She works quickly, efficiently, and soon they're just staring at each other with nothing left to keep their hands busy. "Did you already know?" Clarke questions, surprised that Octavia wasn't surprised or overly upset with her like the others. "How?" She asks after she sees the barely discernable shake of the other girl's head.

"I'm your best friend Clarke, that's my job." She turns her head towards the ceiling, "Why'd you do it?"

She shrugs, the facade of indifference ruined by the way her body's slight tremor. "I was lonely, I guess "

"You had me. You had all of us. You had your mom." Octavia has always told her the truth, even when it hurt, and her tone now tells Clarke that this time won't be any different. "You know she'd be ashamed of you, right?"

"I know. It seems so stupid now."

The brunette snorts, "I bet it does." She sits up, sighing. "If you don't keep cold water on that it's going to swell like a bitch." She tells her, as if Clarke wasn't the one who taught her that.

Octavia hovers near doorway, hands gripping the frame. "For the record, I don't hate you. Even though you'd totally deserve it." And then she's gone, not bothering to shut the door behind her.

 

"Are you sure?" Bellamy asks him for the hundredth time, even though he's looking right at the mark.

It's a mess of veins and red and blue and purple and black, extending from the scratch on the side of his abdomen to cover half of his torso. All the color seems to have been leeched from the area, now pale as bone.

"What else does this look like, Bellamy?" Finn asks hopelessly. "I didn't want to worry anyone, not right after Abby and Raven."

"How did Clarke not see this?"

"It was dark, I made sure it wasn't in her line of vision." He shrugs.

Bellamy shakes his head, "You know we can't fix this, right? Clarke, Maya they can't reverse the disease."

"I know that."

"Then how do you expect me to help?" 

"I just wanted you--someone--to know. It's been two days already; I'm not risking the group anymore."

"So you're gonna just leave?"

"Yea, after I say goodbye," He smiles, but it's the most self depreciating thing Bellamy's ever seen. "Unless one of you wants to shoot me. Which would actually be really appreciated right now."

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, lovelies! I hope you guys all enjoyed, and kudos/comments are greatly appreciated if you did so I know if you guys are into this idea.
> 
> As always, I can be reached for prompts or whatever else at my tumblr: devotedlydecaffeinatedtyrant


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